


Captive

by achievemenhunter



Series: The Black Keep (Mad King Ryan - Medieval Freewood AU) [1]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, Freewood - Freeform, M/M, Mad King Ryan, Medieval AU, Porn With Plot, minecraft au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:45:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achievemenhunter/pseuds/achievemenhunter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A delicate peace hangs in the balance between the kingdoms ruled over by King Geoffrey and the Mad King Ryan. Tensions have mounted, and with some trepidation, Geoff has sent one of his most trusted Commanders, Gavin Free, to gauge the Mad King's strengths and weaknesses.</p><p>But, as often happens, things don't exactly go according to plan.</p><p>(Smut chapter guide: chapters 3, 4 and 7 are filled with smutty goodness, with a little extra at the beginning of chapter 8.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's high time that I wrote some proper Freewood, as well as a multi-chapter fic, so I decided to tackle both together. It probably won't be very long (as in it won't go for much longer than maybe three chapters, the last of which will be close to pure smut) because I've got a history of abandoning long fics because I get distracted by other stuff. I've already got a prison AU in the pipelines because of Ryan being back in his Minecraft convict skin for CTTX, so expect that sometime after this fic is done. But who knows, the story I've got planned can be easily wrapped up within three chapters, or expanded upon if the whim does take me. We'll see how things pan out.

"Let go of me, you curly-haired prick!" A man clad in green struggled against the chains binding him, and the two rather disgruntled guards guiding him by the arm.

 

"Oh, shut the fuck up. Where would you even  _go_? We're in the heart of the castle, you'd never find your way out without running into another guard."

 

The prisoner ignored him, continuing his flailing attempts at escape, making an odd bird-like noise of frustration when his actions proved fruitless.

 

"Yeah, c'mon man, the only thing you're doing is making our jobs harder." The second guard, with lightly tanned skin and a thatch of almost-black hair, sighed. "You don't have to be an asshole." He paused as the chained man continued his squawking and flapping, looking for all the world like a demented green bird. "...And stop making that noise, it's really weird."

 

After a few more seconds, the prisoner complied, quietly fuming as he was led down yet another identical obsidian-walled hallway. He had no idea how the guards knew where they were going, having long lost track of the twists and turns himself. The first guard had been right - there was no way he was getting out of the castle on his own.

 

Eventually, they arrived outside a set of ridiculously oversized oak doors, another set of guards standing post on either side. With a nod, the doors were opened and the prisoner ushered though.

 

The room was fairly empty, as far as floor space went. While there were tapestries and torches galore adorning the walls, the only real furnishing in the room was the looming throne pressed against the back wall, a set of steps leading up to it. A man in a tartan kilt and a red cloak sat proudly atop it, a crown perched on his head and nobility etched into every aspect of his bearing. The guards dragged the prisoner to the base of the stairs, pulling on his arms and forcing him to bow with them.

 

"Rise," the King commanded, hand resting idly on the hilt of his sword. The guards straightened and hauled the captive back to his feet. "Michael, Ray, stand at ease." With a small dip of their heads, they let go of the prisoner's arms and each took a step to the side. The King sat back on his throne, eyeing the captive. "State your name."

 

"Gavin Free, Commander-In-Chief of the archery companies in the service of His Majesty, King Geoffrey."

 

The King’s eyes lit up. "Ah, you've done well, lads. A Commander-In-Chief! It'll certainly hurt dear old Geoff to lose someone so high-ranking."

 

Gavin started forward angrily, chains rattling. "You can't talk about the King like that! What gives you the right?"

 

He frowned. "I give me the right. Surely, you know who I am?"

 

"You're the Mad King Ryan." Gavin's eyes still blazed with indignation.

 

Ryan grimaced. "Never was too fond of that moniker. There's no nuance. After all, there is a difference between madness and a simple desire for power."

 

"That's a line you've definitely crossed," Gavin retorted, unable to stop himself.

 

The Mad King's mouth drew into a hard line. "You admonish me for badmouthing a King, but here you are, doing the exact same thing yourself." He leaned forward, arms gripping the sides of his throne. "Tell me, what gives  _you_  the right to talk to the King in such a manner?"

 

"You're no King of mine." Gavin spat on the floor, staring the Mad King dead in the eyes and ignoring the two guards moving closer.  _There's no way I'm getting out of this in one piece anyway,_ he thought bitterly. _Best to fight him any way I can, while I still can._

 

Rather than start roaring in outrage, as Gavin had expected, Ryan started roaring with laughter. The sound was far from jovial, however, and the way it echoed in the large room sent icy chills down Gavin's spine.

 

Still chuckling, Ryan rose from the throne and made his way down the obsidian steps. He stood in front of Gavin, using his height advantage to full effect as he towered over the younger man. Michael and Ray both scurried back a step, fearful of the savage grin spread across their King's face. That smile that never boded well.

 

"Oh, I'm going to  _enjoy_  breaking you."

 

~* * *~

 

Gavin's shoulders ached from supporting his own weight. He had been taken to a dungeon what felt like several hours ago, his hands transferred from the chains around his wrists to a set of manacles embedded in the wall. His body was suspended in a Y shape, with the heels of his feet just clear of the floor, toes slowly going numb against the cold stone floor. The only real benefit of the position was that he could rest some of his weight against the wall, but all in all that wasn't much of a relief.

 

While Gavin knew that the tactic behind leaving him strung up in prolonged isolation - for his mind to conjure up increasingly painful torture scenarios to leave him good and terrified for when Ryan actually arrived - he couldn't help but start at every little noise, fearing the Mad King's return. Knowing about the tactic did little to stop it from working.

 

The guards had taken his cloak and boots before leaving, essentially stripping him down to a pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt, seeing as his weapons and effects had been confiscated upon capture. This state of poor dress, combined with the cool air of the dungeon, was making Gavin shiver sporadically, cold spots on his feet and back where they touched against damp stone. He giggled despite himself. If the Mad King left him down here alone much longer, Gavin would die of pneumonia before they even got around to the torture.

 

The laughter died in his throat as footsteps echoed along the passage leading to Gavin's cell. The door squeaked slightly on its hinges, the Mad King striding through with a lumpy sack thrown over his shoulder. He tossed the sack rather unceremoniously on the floor, its contents tangling together with an ominously metallic clang. Ryan clasped his hands behind his back, strolling towards his captive like he was taking a walk through a garden. Gavin unconsciously pressed back against the wall as the Mad King stopped mere inches from his face, piercing blue eyes searching.

 

"So! I hear tell that dear Geoffrey is planning an attack on my fair kingdom."

 

Gavin flinched at the suddenness with which Ryan spoke, his voice booming far too loud for the small space they were in. The corner of Ryan's mouth turned up at the archer's involuntary recoil.

 

"You're going to tell me everything you know."

 

Recomposing himself, Gavin glared daggers at him. "I won't tell you a thing."

 

A beatific smile lit Ryan's face and he rocked back on his heels. "Oh, I do so  _love_  when they say that. Makes it so much sweeter when they spill their guts. Mostly figuratively, of course." He paused, eyes sliding to the bag he'd brought with him. "Which reminds me..."

 

Ryan turned away to start rummaging through the bag, muttering to himself as he searched. Gavin's heart slammed in his chest. Despite his brave talk, Gavin didn't have much experience with prolonged periods of pain. He'd always been fairly lucky and avoided injury during Geoff's military campaigns, never receiving much more than a scratch or a few bruises when it came to wounds. He'd never even broken a bone. He liked to think his loyalty to his King would be enough to keep his mouth shut, but if he was reacting like this before the real torture even started, how long was he going to last?

 

After letting Gavin sweat for a little bit, Ryan turned back around, a wickedly sharp dagger in his hands. Gavin's eyes were glued to the weapon as the Mad King approached. Ryan used the point of the blade to tip Gavin's head back, forcing him to make eye contact.

 

Suddenly, the blade flicked down, catching on the V of the neckline of Gavin's shirt and tearing down. Gavin whimpered as the rent fabric hung loosely off him, presenting his bare chest to the cold air. Ryan certainly knew what he was doing - the knife hadn't even touched Gavin's skin yet, and he was already terrified beyond belief.

 

"Where should we start, hm?" the Mad King murmured, trailing the tip of the dagger slowly from the archer's collarbone to his navel, delighting in the way Gavin's muscles quivered under the metal's touch. Gavin kept his eyes locked to the Mad King's, not daring to look away.

 

A strange expression suddenly crossed Ryan's face, and he peered deep into Gavin's eyes, as if he was searching for the answer to some unknown question. Without warning, the Mad King closed the distance between the two of them, carelessly tossing the knife behind him and passionately kissing the man chained to the wall.

 

It took Gavin several seconds too long to realise that he was kissing back. By then, Ryan was already pulling away, a triumphant light in his eyes. "I thought so," he said, grinning and stepping back. He raised his voice. "Michael! Ray! There's been a change of schedule. Escort our guest to my chambers, I will join you shortly."

 

Gavin's ears burned as the two guards opened the door, a set of manacles dangling from Michael's hands. Obviously, they had been standing guard outside the door without Gavin's knowledge, and would have heard everything. They quickly transferred Gavin's bonds, and with a muttered, "Sorry, man," from Ray, he was led from the dungeon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin throws a mild temper tantrum at the expense of the hapless Michael and Ray, and Ryan lets him know just how royally fucked he is (and how royally fucked he is going to be, heyo)

Gavin pounded frantically on the oak door of the Mad King's bedroom, chains rattling in time with the door's handles. "C'mon, guys, let me out!"

 

Michael and Ray, who had the continued misfortune of having to deal with the captured archer, gave each other exasperated looks as they leaned against the wall outside the room.

 

"I take it back," Ray muttered. "I'm not sorry now."

 

The thumping continued, as it had been for the better part of the past ten minutes. "Guys, stop being such prats!"

 

"Shut up!" Michael roared, a scowl on his face. "We're not letting you out, and that's final, so stop being such an ass about it and  _shut the fuck up_!"

 

There were a few more defiant thuds, then a muffled "Wankers," as Gavin stomped away from the door, impetuously throwing himself backwards onto the bed and leaving the two guards in relative peace.

 

~* * *~

 

The King’s bedroom was the most exquisite room Gavin had ever seen, casting even the royal chambers back in Geoff's kingdom into shadow. Everything had clearly been chosen with care; whilst elegantly beautiful and obviously expensive, it was all very tasteful. The rug that covered the floor before Ryan's bed was black as sin and soft under Gavin's bare feet. The bed itself was certainly fit for a king - big enough for five people to comfortably sleep on the plush mattress, with four posters of intricately carved oak. The red silk bedspread was embroidered minimally with gold, and matched the canopy curtains. Several other items of oaken furniture were arranged neatly around the room, including a chest of drawers, a wardrobe, a writing desk and a luxuriously upholstered chair. All were functional yet gracefully shaped. A large fireplace, ensconced in the wall opposite the bay windows, filled the room with delicious golden warmth.

 

Gavin would rather be back in the dungeon.

 

He kicked his feet angrily at the rug. The soft fibres gently sprung back into place and he glared. He felt like doing something childish, like ripping all the clothes from the closet and throwing them on the floor. Or maybe tossing the ornate desk chair through the huge windows. Glass was very expensive around these parts, the sand having to be imported from the faraway seaside. The shattering sound of the windows breaking, shards clattering on the stones several storeys below, was very pleasing in Gavin's head.

 

It was probably for the best that Ryan chose that moment to return, before Gavin could make up his mind and potentially make things a lot worse for himself than they already were. Gavin managed to sneak a glance into the hallway as the doors closed behind the Mad King, and it was clear that the guards would not be leaving their post any time soon.

 

Ryan smiled and produced a key from the pocket of his coat, throwing the small bag he had brought with him onto the bed. The bag landed with a reassuringly gentle thump. "Now, Gavin, I'm sure you want this." He waggled the key. "I'll undo your manacles if you promise to do what you're told."

 

Biting his lip, Gavin nodded his head demurely and Ryan strode forward, quickly unlocking the shackles. Gavin rubbed his chafed wrists as the bonds fell away, then dropped into a crouch and surged upwards, aiming to catch the Mad King around the middle. Ryan sidestepped him, clasping his hands together and bringing them down between Gavin's shoulder blades as he passed. Gavin staggered but managed to roll into another crouch, turning on the spot. He launched up from the ground, using the momentum to add power to his strike, but Ryan sidestepped again. The older man caught his arm easily and twisted it behind his back, forcing the younger man to the floor as Ryan bore his weight down on him.

 

Gavin had to have an immense amount of strength in his torso and upper limbs to be able to pull his longbow back to full draw, and in the event that his bow became unavailable or if he ran out of arrows, he was a competent close combat fighter. Ryan, however, was a master of the sword, supremely skilled in fighting in close quarters, and Gavin's struggles to break free were ineffectual. Ryan kept Gavin pinned in an iron grip for just long enough for the archer to realise that the Mad King would beat him every time in a hand-to-hand combat scenario, before letting the downed man stand up to regain what was left of his dignity.

 

"Let's try that again." There was a hint of steel in Ryan's voice. "Why don't you take a seat, I'll explain a few things to you." Gavin promptly sat on the bed as Ryan pulled the chair from the desk, setting it directly across from the archer.

 

"First of all, I know a fair bit more about you than you think." He folded himself gracefully onto the seat, settling easily against its plush cushioning. He sat with his legs slightly open and Gavin had to stop himself from wondering if the Mad King wore his kilt traditionally or not.

 

"A lot of people consider my kingdom to be politically isolated, completely wrapped up in its own affairs. That isn't really the case, though - I keep myself aware and updated on the state of all my neighbouring kingdoms, and it's never been a secret that Geoff is uncomfortable with my rule. I guess, for him, one of the downfalls of being the head of such progressive monarchy is that sometimes traditions seem old-fashioned, or archaic. Personally, I find it astonishing that he, and so many of our neighbours, have forgotten the old Gods and their demands, rather accepting this new all-powerful deity that promises good fortune and expects nothing in return.

 

"The Gods of the Hunt require sacrifice of blood and meat to bless the land, and they certainly continue to favour my kingdom. The people thrive and flourish, as they always have. So what if a few cows are killed and thrown into a flaming pit every year? It's not like they're burnt alive. They're in no unnecessary pain. Did you know there are some cultures across the sea that sacrifice virgin women, and show them no such mercy? The old Gods my people serve are of a more benevolent kind than that, I think." He smiled faintly. "But I digress. As I was saying, I keep myself up to date on important political information about my neighbours. So I know that despite Commander-In-Chief being an impressive title in its own right, it's not the only one you have, or even the most notable one."

 

Gavin's heart froze and dropped into his stomach. He'd been hoping that the Mad King wouldn't realise just how important Gavin was as a political prisoner. He'd been wrong.

 

A wolfish grin stretched across Ryan's face. "You're the Prince Regent of the House of Ramsey, next in line for the throne if anything happens to the King and Queen. Tell me, why would someone as high-ranking as yourself be sent out on a scouting mission?"

 

Gavin sagged bonelessly. "Because I have a duty to protect my people." His voice was barely above a whisper, eyes focused on a point past Ryan's elbow. "I'm good at making friends, and blending in when I need to. The only reason I got caught was because a night-time hunting party stumbled across my camp while I was sleeping." He let out a breath of air that with a bit more effort could have been a laugh. "A few more metres either side, and they never would have seen me. Geoff was against me going. Said it was too dangerous, wanted to send me with a team of scouts, if I even went at all. I convinced him I could do it myself, that I would draw less attention that way." He clenched his jaw briefly before lifting his head, looking Ryan straight in the eyes. "But apparently you already knew we were planning to attack."

 

"That I did." There was a barely disguised glee in Ryan's voice as he continued. "I imagine that dear Geoff has been making preparations and rallying support from both King Burnie and King Jack. My kingdom may not have any true allies, but it is still a force to be reckoned with. Now that I've got you, though - and word of that should reach him in about four days or so - he's going to want to mobilise immediately. He's always been one for brash actions and fierce loyalty, so I doubt his advisors will be able to convince him to wait for the other Kings to organise their assisting troops and send them to boost his numbers. It'll eat him alive just having to wait for his own army to get organised.

 

"And he doesn't have much of a choice, from his point of view. A benefit of my reputation, misinformed as it is, is that he won't be sure that I won't just get bored and kill you. Aside from personal guilt over sending you on the mission that led to your death, the kingdom would spiral into a panic. If a member of the royal family, even an adopted one, can be captured and killed, then who is safe?" He smiled with a genuineness that terrified Gavin. "Honestly, I don't really need you to tell me Geoff's battle strategies. He'll have to change them to some degree anyway to compensate for your absence, and I have the upper hand regardless. He's a straightforward man, it wouldn't take much for me to make a good guess at what he's planning.

 

"But I'm still going to make you tell me, as a matter of principle. And because I know I'll really enjoy it." He stood, swinging the chair back into place under the desk, before moving to stand back in front of Gavin. Ryan gestured for him to stand. With shell-shocked reluctance, he did.

 

"Now strip," Ryan ordered, already kicking off his own black brogues and pulling off his socks, toes sinking into the thick rug on the floor.

 

Slowly, without relish, Gavin slipped his arms out of his ruined shirt. He'd had the faintest amount of hope that he wasn't in this room for the obvious reason. It had been a fool's hope and he knew it, but it still hurt to have that taken from him. He had no idea what to really expect - he'd only ever been with one other man before, a knight in Geoff's kingdom by the name of Dan, and that had been some time ago. Geoff had always been a very progressive King, and told Gavin that as long as he was happy, he could be with whoever he liked. He wondered what Geoff would say if he could see Gavin now.

 

From the corner of his eye, he watched as Ryan took off his heavy embroidered cloak and draped it neatly over its stand. Seeing it made Gavin miss his own travelling cloak - sure, it was a drab, mottled grey-green, but it was warm and thick and comfortable and reminded him of the wooded forests he grew up in. He shook his head. Now was not the time for nostalgia.

 

The guards had taken the rest of his possessions, so all Gavin had left to remove was his pants, and the underwear beneath. He shucked off the pants, but couldn't bring himself to remove his last piece of clothing. He wanted to maintain some sense of dignity and self-respect for as long as possible.

 

Granted, there wasn't much of that left as he sat on another man's bed in nothing but his breeches.

 

Ryan unbuttoned his coat with practiced efficiency, shrugging out of it and hanging it on the back of the desk chair. He moved to the side of the bed, placing his crown on a waist-height cushioned pedestal expressly for that purpose, and pulled his shirt off. Now wearing nothing but his kilt, Ryan practically pounced onto the bed, straddling Gavin.

 

Gavin knew he wouldn't be able to ignore just how attractive Ryan was. Not when the Mad King had trained with the sword since childhood to hone his skill and his body to peak condition. Not when the warm crackle of the fire lit up the side of his chest, throwing his toned muscles into sharp relief and creating an eye-pleasing contrast of colour. Not when the firelight brought a gentle shine to his honey-coloured hair, softly framing his clear blue eyes. Gavin licked his lips involuntarily, mouth suddenly dry.

 

The Mad King grinned, his teeth glinting.

 

"Oh, this will be  _so_  good," he murmured, voice rumbling deep in his chest. "I think you're going to enjoy this almost as much as I will."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I've written M/M smut, so please forgive me if I'm a little rusty.
> 
> Now onto the fun stuff! Content warnings for imprisonment, dub-con, domination, orgasm denial, barebacking, drug use (does using a muscle relaxant count as drug use?), and a brief instance of choking.

Gavin was expecting the kiss this time around, and was able to will himself to lie there with his mouth closed. However, Ryan was nothing if not determined. With a quick tweak of Gavin's nipple, he was able to elicit a gasp from the Prince Regent and his tongue dove into Gavin's mouth. Reacting almost completely on instinct, Gavin clamped his teeth down, hard. Coppery fluid filled his mouth and when Ryan reared back, Gavin let him go, gagging on the taste of blood.

 

All of a sudden Gavin was gagging for a different reason, as Ryan wrapped both hands around Gavin's neck and bore his weight down. The younger man scrabbled ineffectually against Ryan's iron grip.

 

"I suggest not attempting something like that again," the Mad King warned him with a deadly calm before releasing him. Gavin gasped desperately for air, the sound raw as his chest heaved. He glared and Ryan laughed, grabbing the archer's wrists in one hand and pinning them to the mattress. "Ah, you still have vigour, even when you know you're beaten. Good. You'll need it."

 

With a smirk, Ryan began kissing and biting along Gavin's collarbone, then up his neck, leaving a daisy chain of bruises blooming on his skin. Gavin made a small, inarticulate noise somewhere in his throat. This time, when Ryan kissed him on the mouth, he couldn't stop himself from responding. When the Mad King roughly snagged Gavin's lower lip between his teeth, Gavin allowed him entrance. Ryan's devilish tongue went to work, the faint taste of blood still present. Clearly words were not the only thing Ryan's mouth was good for, and soon Gavin lost himself to the sensation of the kiss.

 

Ryan's free hand roamed across Gavin's chest, tangling in the hair between his pecs before travelling lower. Grinning into the kiss, Ryan palmed the front of Gavin's breeches. He was already half-hard, and jerked against Ryan's grip.

 

"P-Please. No," Gavin stuttered as Ryan scoffed at him, mouth moving past Gavin's neck.

 

"I think we both know how much you want this." Ryan's breath was hot against the shell of Gavin's ear, and he emphasised the words by pressing against Gavin again.

 

And as much as Gavin hated to admit it, he really did want it; it was only the internal voice screaming how wrong it was that he was letting himself get seduced by the Mad King, screaming just that little bit louder than the one that told him to give in, that was holding him back.

 

Ryan could see the conflict in Gavin's eyes and decided to help the younger man make up his mind. He ground his hips against Gavin's, the soft scrape of Ryan's kilt against the younger man making Gavin's eyes briefly cloud with lust. They began kissing again, only for Ryan to pull away after a few moments, reaching for the bag he'd tossed onto the bed earlier. Gavin debated trying to escape whilst the Mad King's attention was divided, but barely came to the realisation that he wasn't sure that he wanted to before Ryan turned back around, unstoppering the small bottle now in his hand. A strong, heady scent drifted through the air, and Gavin wrinkled his nose. Ryan put the bottle near his face.

 

"You'll want to inhale some of this before we begin."

 

Gavin shook his head. Ryan grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled tight. "I will take you  _dry_  if you don't. I'm trying to make this an enjoyable experience for you, you're not doing yourself any favours by being stubborn."

 

Gavin took a strong whiff of whatever was in the bottle, the pungent smell burning in his nostrils. Almost immediately, a wondrous fog settled over his body and his head soared into the clouds. After a couple of seconds his senses returned to normal, leaving him feeling completely relaxed. Ryan rolled him over onto his stomach with practiced ease, pulling Gavin's shorts off in one motion, then grabbed another bottle from the bag. He smacked Gavin on the ass. "Up you get. Hands and knees, spread your legs wide."

 

Shakily, limbs like a newborn foal's, Gavin complied. Ryan undid his own belt and unwrapped his kilt, coating his fingers with scented oil from the second bottle. A few moments later, Gavin had steadied himself, only to almost go crashing back down as Ryan suddenly ran a slicked digit around Gavin's puckered entrance, then slowly inserted it, barely stroking Gavin's prostate. The muscle relaxant Ryan had given him was working its magic, and it wasn't long before the finger inside him was joined by another. Two soon became three, and Ryan drove his fingers in, brushing against Gavin's prostate with each motion.

 

It had been a while, but the sensation was still familiar to Gavin. Small, pleased noises fell from his lips as Ryan's fingers continued to stroke and stretch.

 

"Are you ready to tell me his plans?" Ryan's voice had just a little too much menace in it to be considered a croon.

 

"I won't," Gavin replied quickly, not trusting himself to coherently string together more than a few words.

 

Ryan made a noncommittal noise. "To be honest, I'd be disappointed if this was all it took to break you. I don't want to be robbed of my fun." His voice dropped lower. "I hope you're ready."

 

The Mad King pulled his fingers out of Gavin with an unexpectedness that made Gavin cry out. The sound had barely left his mouth when he felt something new pressing against his entrance, and suddenly Ryan's cock was filling him completely, tip grinding against Gavin's prostate.

 

"Ryan!" The name escaped from Gavin without him meaning it to. He could almost see the triumphant grin lighting the Mad King's features. Ryan began rolling into him slowly, tauntingly, placing one hand on Gavin's hips to steady himself and using the other to pleasure Gavin. He ran his fingers up Gavin's shaft, teasing his thumb over the slit. Gavin twitched beneath him as Ryan wrapped his fingers firmly around Gavin's cock, sliding up and down with fluid motions. Embarrassingly quickly, Gavin felt himself building up towards a finish, but then all of a sudden the hand on his hip was around his waist and pulling him upright. The hand on his cock disappeared and Gavin whined at the loss. Ryan reached behind him and pulled something else from the bag, and Gavin sighed with relief as the hand returned. The stroking didn't start again, though, and Gavin stared with disbelief when he looked down and saw Ryan deftly tying a cord around his cock, knotting it tightly. He let out a choked whimper as Ryan pushed him back down, the pleasure rapidly becoming unbearable.

 

"Tell me his plans," Ryan growled, the words punctuated with a particularly deep thrust.

 

"N-never," Gavin groaned, trying his damnedest not to squirm in the Mad King's grip, knowing it would only give Ryan satisfaction. It was the only form of retaliation Gavin had left. He tried to tell himself to fight, that the only reason he was enjoying this so much was because Ryan had put something extra in the muscle relaxant. Even in his head, the words were unconvincing. He didn't know how much longer he was going to be able to hold out for.

 

Ryan sighed, setting up a languid pace and barely seeming to notice the small gasps and pants that escaped Gavin's lips every time Ryan hit his prostate. "You're being incredibly ungrateful, you know," he continued conversationally. "Normally, I would have taken you without any preparation, fucked this pretty little ass of yours so hard you wouldn't be able to walk for a week. But I decided I'd rather make sure you really enjoyed it." In between words, Ryan bent over Gavin's back, biting harsh marks into the skin of his sides. "And this is the thanks I receive for my generosity." His words rumbled and reverberated through Gavin's body as their chests pressed together, Ryan nipping at his ear.

 

Hands sliding over the body beneath him, Ryan heard a sharp intake of breath as he brushed against Gavin's straining erection with one hand, the other pulling Gavin's hips back to bury himself as deep in Gavin's ass as possible. The hand around Gavin's cock tightened and started pumping. A drawn-out moan fell from Gavin's lips. His hips snapped involuntarily towards the circle of Ryan's fingers, despite knowing that with the lace constricting the blood flow to his erection, he would find no relief.

 

It wasn't helping Ryan was having sex with him like a lover would, all sensual motions and caresses. If not for the cord tied around Gavin's cock, he would have said that Ryan was practically making love to him, holding him the most intimate ways possible. Ryan pulled out of him slowly, gently sliding his fingers into Gavin's hole once more. "I have to admit, you're lasting longer than I expected," Ryan told him, voice thick with suppressed lust. Gavin whimpered as fingers rubbed his prostate in time with the hand still moving up and down his shaft. "I'm even having to hold myself back to stop myself from finishing before I'm done with you."

 

Gavin felt like there was fire under his skin, that he would burst open and engulf the room in flames.

 

"If I were you, I'd be proud of myself for holding out as long as you have. But pride has its place, Gavin. You're not gaining anything by holding your tongue."

 

Ryan pulled his fingers halfway out of Gavin and then thrust back in. It was almost like the motion pushed the words out of Gavin, because suddenly they were flowing from his mouth like a river, and he had about as much control as a piece of driftwood. "Geoff was planning to attack just... just before harvest," he gasped. "That way, you'd have limited supplies within the castle walls without access to your fields, and -  _ngh_  - he'd be able to feed his troops on both his crops and yours." Gavin gulped in air, breathless. "He'd have my archery companies... pick off defenders from the tops of your castle walls, while the other ground troops storm the gates." Gavin faltered, letting out a quiet moan.

 

"I assume that's not everything?" Ryan coaxed, grinning. "After all, that's a little cut and dry, even for Geoff."

 

Shame battled with desire. Shame lost. Gavin told Ryan everything he knew about Geoff's plans. Throughout the entire explanation, Ryan's motions never ceased, the pleasure Gavin was feeling impossibly, unbearably, growing more intense with each pass.

 

Gavin felt like crying. He'd just betrayed the man he'd sworn loyalty to, the man that had found him as a child, wandering through the woods alone, and taken him in as his own son. It didn't matter that some the information Gavin had provided was out of date at that point.

 

He was a traitor.

 

Worst of all, Ryan acted like he hadn't even said anything, continuing his ministrations.

 

"P-Please," Gavin croaked, desire burning hot under his skin. He had given up Geoff's plans, had given up everything, why wasn't Ryan at least allowing him the relief that had been promised?

 

But Ryan wasn't done with him yet. "Who is your King?" he demanded.

 

Gavin screwed his eyes shut. He knew exactly the answer Ryan was looking for, and he didn't want to give it. Didn't want to lose that last shred of dignity, lose that last piece of himself. If he gave in, he'd practically be renouncing his ties to Geoff and his kingdom.

 

"Ngh- King Geoff," he managed to choke out.

 

Ryan stroked him with one hand and fingered him with the other, completely unrelenting. He buried his fingers particularly deep, circling Gavin's prostate. The Prince Regent let out a shaky groan, but didn't hear it, too caught up in the painfully pleasurable sensations arcing through his body.

 

"Who is your King?"

 

"King G-Geoff..." he repeated, but with less conviction. The Mad King heard the slight hesitation and his lips curled upwards. He removed his fingers from Gavin's hole, replacing them once more with his cock. He slid in, buried to the hilt in one smooth motion. Gavin smothered a satisfied moan against the covers as Ryan brought his free hand between Gavin's legs, cupping his balls and massaging them gently.

 

Thrusting shallowly, Ryan leant over his back, hands still working. Gavin's arms trembled from the overstimulation and the warm, firm weight pushing down on him and into him and Ryan was  _everywhere,_  hands caressing his cock, torso pressed to his, lips placing hot, open-mouthed kisses to his shoulders. Ryan sucked a trail of red marks up Gavin's neck to his ear, lost among the litany of bruises he'd already made. "Who is your King?" he breathed, the smug smirk clear in his voice.

 

Gavin made a negative-sounding grunt, not trusting his voice to say what he wanted it to. Ryan leaned back, pulling out of Gavin almost completely before ramming back in. With a cry, Gavin fell onto his forearms, hands no longer willing to support him on their own. Ryan repeated the action, and the slight change in angle due his reduced position broke Gavin into a thousand pieces. "You are, you're my King, King Ryan is my King!" he babbled, tears finally streaking down his face.

 

Smiling, Ryan gave Gavin's flank a loving pat. "That's all I needed to hear, Gavin. You've done very well." With that, he undid the cord around Gavin's cock, and the shattered pieces burst, Gavin's orgasm hitting him harder than any he had ever experienced. For a few glorious seconds, Gavin completely forgot about the enormity of what he'd just done and what he'd given up, overwhelmed with pleasure, only dimly aware of the fact that Ryan had grabbed his hips and was fucking into him. Gavin came down from his high just as Ryan spilled into him, filling him to the brim. Ryan pulled out slowly, and Gavin slumped bonelessly against the sticky bedsheets, utterly spent.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have some smut! Have ALL of the smut!

After allowing Gavin a few moments to recover, Ryan shooed him from the bed. Shame-faced, Gavin gathered his clothes and put them on as quickly as he was able to, standing awkwardly with his toes sinking into the plush black rug.

 

"Michael and Ray will see you to your quarters," Ryan told him after wrapping his kilt loosely around his hips, thumping his fist firmly on the door. The two guards quickly opened it, not looking at Gavin. Gavin found himself glad that their gaze was averted.

 

"Will there be anything else, my Lord?" Michael asked, still ignoring Gavin.

 

"Go rouse one of the chambermaids once you've escorted Gavin to his room. I need some clean bedsheets." The guards nodded respectfully, each taking one of Gavin's arms as they turned around. Gavin hobbled slightly as they led him down the corridor, his backside aching. He tried to memorise the path he was taken on, but although there were only a few turns before they stopped outside another door, he was so drained that he couldn't remember anything.

 

The room was furnished similarly to the Mad King's, just smaller and not quite as grand, with a colour scheme of green. And, he realised as the door shut with the clank of metal, also with an exterior lock. Too tired to bother testing the door, Gavin stumbled to the bed and collapsed on the grass-green sheets, still in his pants and tattered shirt. Almost as soon as his head sank into the soft goose-down pillow, Gavin was asleep, dreaming of smoothly spoken words and sensual caresses.

 

~* * *~

 

Ryan called for him again the next night. Gavin was filled with equal parts anticipation and dread. There was no question in his mind on whether or not he wanted to spend another night with the Mad King - any tiny doubt he had about being held by Ryan again was drowned in the fear of what he would have to give up this time. Gavin couldn't think of anything else that the Mad King could possibly want from him, and he picked nervously at the new shirt he'd been given. The material was light and soft, sitting against him like a second skin, and had been delivered to his room along with his breakfast. He'd wolfed down the food, then gladly slipped out of the ruined clothes he had been wearing, washing himself quickly at the basin nestled beside the fireplace before donning the new clothes. The emerald green fabric contrasted brightly against his tanned skin and dark grey pants, also a new addition, along with soft black leather boots. Gavin was glad that the clothing wasn't court-styled - he'd always found those outfits unbearably stifling whenever he'd been forced to wear them. Although simple in design, everything was beautifully made, and managed to be both comfortable and flattering.

 

Gavin doubted he would have been able to breathe in one of those tightly-laced court jackets. He already felt like drawing breath was a struggle as he was once again escorted to Ryan's chambers by Ray and Michael. Michael's knuckles rapped against the door, and Gavin gulped down a lungful of air.

 

"Come in."

 

Ray pulled on the handle and both guards shoved Gavin into the room, shutting the door behind him with a muted thud.

 

Ryan was sitting at his desk, his jacket draped over the back of his chair and his quill scrawling rapidly across a piece of parchment. He put the utensils down and turned towards him, smiling. "A lot of people don't seem to realise the amount of work it takes to rule over a country - they think it's all eating at extravagant banquets and sitting on a throne while looking important. Unfortunately, it's mostly a desk job." Something in his smile changed, became predatory, and his eyes dragged up and down Gavin's body, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head at an appreciative angle. "I see you're enjoying your new attire. You wear it well."

 

A blush fought to stain his cheeks red, and Gavin cursed his body for acting like it belonged to a love-struck handmaiden. "Thank you, my Lord," he replied clumsily, not entirely sure where this awkwardness was coming from.

 

The Mad King threw his head back and laughed. "Gavin, do you really think there's any need for formalities at this point? You may call me Ryan."

 

He turned the idea over in his mind, quickly deciding it was something he could get used to. "Okay. I will, Ryan." Gavin enjoyed the way the name rolled off his tongue, strong and solitary without any unnecessary labels. "...Did you want something from me?"  _What else could I possibly give you that you haven't taken already?_

 

"No need to look so terrified," Ryan chuckled, standing and loosening the neckline of his shirt. "I have no ulterior motive tonight. I just... want... you." Gavin gulped as Ryan stepped forward deliberately with each word, ending up with his face mere inches from Gavin's. A small squeak escaped Gavin as Ryan leaned in, their chests flush as the Mad King put his mouth near the younger man's ear. "Will you give me that?"

 

Gavin felt himself nodding jerkily, feeling light on his feet as the pressure and concern dissipated. Ryan smiled triumphantly and pressed their lips together, pulling Gavin against him with one hand while the other rose to cup the back of Gavin's head, fingers tangling in his hair.

 

At first, Gavin braced his hands against Ryan's chest, but as the kiss lengthened and deepened, he gripped onto the back of Ryan's shirt. The hand at Gavin's waist dipped lower, pulling the hem of his shirt free and running fingertips along the smooth skin at the base of Gavin's spine, goosebumps springing up in their wake. Ryan's hand trailed lower still, giving Gavin's ass a good squeeze before returning his attention to taking off the younger man's shirt. He pushed the material up over Gavin's head, his hands running up Gavin's sides and arms, admiring the archer's physique. His feet nudged against Gavin's, forcing him to give ground until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Ryan pulled away from him, gently but firmly pushing down on Gavin's bare shoulders until he sat.

 

The Mad King pulled his shirt off, towering over Gavin in only his kilt - his brogues and socks having been discarded beside his desk since before Gavin had arrived - and smiling down at the younger man. "Take off your boots." Even though the words were soft, they still managed to have a ring of authority to them. Gavin hastily slipped out of the boots, stuffing his socks inside and sitting up on the bed. Just to make things a little easier later on, Gavin also shucked off his pants and sat back in his underwear, letting his bare feet dangle over the edge. Ryan moved towards him with all his usual predatory grace, and didn't even have to touch the younger man to make him scoot further up the bed and lay himself out on his back.

 

Gavin remembered the time that a troupe of performers had visited Geoff's castle, having travelled from the exotic Southern Lands with all manner of fantastic creatures. Of all the animals that the troupe owned, Gavin had found the lion the most fascinating - all claws and fangs and thunderous roar, the fact that it could tear everyone in the room apart if it had the inclination clearly written in the powerful slant of its shoulders. Now, as Ryan pressed his weight against Gavin, fingernails scraping down one of Gavin's biceps and his teeth at Gavin's neck, the younger man couldn't help but compare the two.

 

And he couldn't help but compare himself to a small bird caught in a big cat's paws, his heart beating fast and his body completely at the Mad King's mercy. Yet, he felt safe - he was sure that Ryan wouldn't  _really_ hurt him, only enough so that Gavin would enjoy it, because apparently that sort of forcefulness was something that Gavin liked now.

 

Ryan's mouth found its way to Gavin's, the short stubble on his face rasping against Gavin's jawline. Gavin kissed him back ardently, hands drifting up to Ryan's sides of his own accord. He half expected the older man to pull Gavin's arms over his head, but Ryan just continued to dominate his mouth, occasionally pulling away to suck yet another mark onto his neck. Emboldened, and before he could change his mind, Gavin slid his hand between them and cupped the front of Ryan's kilt. Ryan grunted in appreciation, pulling back to give Gavin a considering glance. He was silent for a moment, pondering, then murmured, "Well, since you seem so willing..."

 

He unbuckled his belt with one hand, the other pressed into the bed beside Gavin's shoulder. Tossing the belt onto the floor, Ryan tugged his kilt loose, letting the fabric fall away as he reached for the bottle of scented oil on his bedside table. Pulling out the stopper, he poured some of the oil into Gavin's palm. Gavin warmed the oil on his fingers as he scooted backwards on the bed, propping himself up on the pillows scattered by the headboard. Ryan moved with him, planting his hands among the cushions on either side of Gavin's head, looking straight into his eyes.

 

The oil warmed, Gavin took an unsteady breath and brushed his hand along Ryan's shaft. Ryan exhaled slowly. Gaining confidence, Gavin made a loose fist around Ryan's cock and began pumping slowly up and down its length, occasionally running his thumb over the head, or reaching down lower to cup and squeeze Ryan's balls. The older man's breathing grew heavier, hot against Gavin's cheeks, and then Ryan dipped his head to crush his lips against Gavin's once more, claiming Gavin's mouth like it was something he could own.

 

Gavin shimmied his hips, trying to dislodge his breeches with his free hand. The movement made him brush up against Ryan and he groaned impatiently, struggling to pull the fabric away so he could touch himself properly. Ryan readjusted his weight, holding himself up with one arm while the other helped Gavin remove the offending garment. Gavin sighed with relief, taking himself in hand and moving in time with the hand still stroking Ryan. Gavin's breath came in soft gasps, stolen in the brief seconds when Ryan's lips weren't on his.

 

Ryan finally kissed away from Gavin's mouth, biting down his neck once more and nipping at his collarbone. "Gods above, Gavin," he hissed, breath ghosting over skin. He grabbed Gavin's wrist and pulled him away, flipping the younger man onto his stomach. Glancing around, he found the oil bottle and poured some onto his fingers, quickly warming it before sinking a slicked finger into Gavin's hole. He worked quickly, his cock aching slightly with need, and soon had three fingers inside Gavin, sliding and stretching. Gavin, for his part, was moaning quietly into the pillows, hand still fisted loosely around his own cock, dragging up and down at a slow, steady pace. He whimpered as Ryan pulled his fingers out of him, leaving him feeling empty. "R-Ryan, please..." he begged, and the older man certainly wasn't going to deny him when he looked like that, all pleading eyes and hair stuck to the nape of his neck with sweat and his legs spread open in an invitation.

 

With a shuddering sigh, Ryan slid his cock into Gavin, eyelids fluttering shut as he bottomed out. He was still for a moment, just savouring the sensation of that wonderful wet tightness around his cock. Impatient, Gavin ground up against him, and Ryan was galvanised into action. He thrust slowly at first, quickly building up momentum. Little panting breaths whispered past Gavin's lips as he attempted to find a decent handhold among the pillows. When the cushions kept slipping away despite his best efforts, Gavin chose instead to grab at the headboard for support, his arms locked and his back arched. Ryan grabbed at his hips, the extra purchase letting him fuck deeper into Gavin and making them both groan in pleasure.

 

"So good," Ryan murmured, leaning down to suck a mark onto Gavin's taut shoulders. His mouth trailed higher, and Gavin twisted a little awkwardly into another kiss, arms bending to accommodate the position. Gavin broke away with a gasp, arms snapping back to ramrod straightness as Ryan unexpectedly took the younger man's cock into his hand, fingers sliding up the still-slicked shaft. Ryan's hand moved in tandem with his hips, and it wasn't long before their motions started to become erratic and were panting each other's names.

 

Their torsos were pressed together, stuck together with sweat as Ryan struggled to find a spot on Gavin's shoulders that he hadn't already bruised, and then Gavin's toes were curling as he shouted Ryan's name, spurting his load onto a number of the pillows. His muscles clenched around Ryan as he came, and the Mad King only had to thrust twice more before he lost himself as well, whispering quiet praise. He pulled out of Gavin slowly, not wanting to hurt him in the sensitive aftermath. He reached over to the bedside table, grabbing a soft cloth and gently wiping Gavin down. Gavin rolled over onto his back once Ryan was done, and the Mad King grabbed the soiled pillows that had been beneath Gavin and tossed them carelessly onto the floor. He sat back, and Gavin waited to be shooed from the bed, like the night before.

 

Instead, Ryan told him, "We'll bathe in the morning," and rearranged some of the pillows more to his liking before sliding under the covers.

 

Grinning like an idiot despite himself, Gavin tugged his side of the doona back and got underneath it, getting comfortable and falling asleep mere seconds later.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little bit of a filler chapter, sorry. Actual plot stuff will happen next chapter.

Gavin woke with a confused start, and for the briefest of seconds he thought he was back in Geoff's castle. Then, he felt the slight pang of the bruises littered liberally over his torso and remembered. He glanced to his side with a half-smile, but Ryan wasn't there. Blinking way his tiredness, Gavin sat up, and shrieked as he realised that Michael and Ray were standing by the door, each of them holding a spear in one hand.

 

"What're you doing in here!" he cried, pulling the covers up to his chest.

 

"Waiting for you to wake up," Ray answered calmly. "Took your sweet time with that, by the way. It's almost lunch."

 

"You guys were watching me  _sleep_?"

 

"We're doing our  _job_ ," Michael retorted, arms folded.

 

"Hm." Gavin glanced around the room again, as if expecting Ryan to suddenly climb out of the fireplace or burst in through the window. Shaking his head to clear away the last vestiges of sleep, he asked, "Where's Ryan?"

 

"The King's already attending to his duties," Michael told him. Gavin couldn't help but feel disappointed. "He doesn't exactly have the luxury of being able to wake up at noon. Get up and put some pants on, we'll escort you to the baths."

 

Scrambling for his breeches, which had been pushed to the foot of the bed the previous night, Gavin struggled to keep himself covered. He managed it, though, and quickly shoved his legs through the appropriate holes while still keeping himself shielded with the doona. He got out of the bed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on as Ray opened the door.

 

"So, what, you two are my personal guards now?"

 

"That's one way of looking at it," Ray replied, stepping into the corridor. "Basically, we'll be with you whenever you're not with the King, and make sure you don't go places that you're not supposed to."

 

"There's places I'm not allowed to go?" he asked curiously, bare feet cold against the obsidian floor. He regretted not putting on his boots.

 

Michael gave him a slightly confused look. "Of course not. You're not a guest here, or did you forget the whole thing about being captured? You're basically the King's bitch now. If he's said there's areas of the castle he doesn't want you in, you bet your ass you're not going in them. Even if you tried to get away from us, you'd get lost. Anyway, it's mostly where people are working. We don't want you annoying the servants."

 

Gavin was quiet for the rest of the trip, mulling this information over. He knew it was a little foolish, but with the way Ryan had been treating him, Gavin had expected that he would be something more than just a prisoner in the castle. Perhaps it was something that would just take a little time.

 

Ray and Michael waited for him outside the baths while he washed, apparently trusting him enough to not drown himself without their supervision. The baths, basically waist-deep pools sunk into the elevated floor, were filled almost to the brim with deliciously warm scented water. Gavin wasn't entirely sure how the baths were heated, and at that moment he didn't much care. It just felt good to clean himself properly, and he dipped his head below the water, scrubbing his scalp with his fingers. He broke the surface and his eyes met with someone else's. He sloshed backwards in surprise, water splashing over the rim of the bath.

 

"I'm sorry, my Lord," the bathhouse servant apologised, casting her eyes down. "I didn't mean to startle you. Here, I brought a towel and clothes for you to use once you are done. The King sends his regrets that he was not able to join you." She blushed suddenly, setting the bundle on a dry spot near the bath's edge and leaving the room. He frowned after her. So, the castle staff were apparently aware of his title, and why the Mad King was keeping him at the castle. Gavin sighed, sinking into the water. That was going to make for a lot of awkward interactions with strangers.

 

After soaking in the bath for a few more minutes, Gavin clambered out and reached for the towel, first making sure that no other servants had randomly appeared. He dried himself off, rubbing the towel over his hair and making it stand up in unruly tufts. He dressed quickly, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt similar to the ones he'd been given to wear the day before. Now that he was clean, he realised how much his stomach was rumbling. He slipped on the new pair of boots and walked back out into the corridor where Michael and Ray were waiting for him.

 

"Any chance I could get a bite to eat?"

 

Michael nodded. "We'll take you down to the kitchens. It'll be quicker than having someone bring food to your room."

 

Grinning, Ray nudged him in the ribs. "You just want to see if that red-haired girl you like is working there today."

 

Michael slapped his hand away. "Her name is Lindsay, and shut up."

 

~* * *~

 

Lindsay was, in fact, working in the kitchens once they'd made their way down there. She gave Gavin an approving once-over. "The King has excellent taste," she remarked, earning a pleased blush from Gavin and a displeased scowl from Michael. She grinned, ruffling Michael's curls playfully. "Don't you go getting jealous on me, you know how annoying you are when you get broody."

 

Michael rolled his eyes at her, but couldn't help the small smile that crept onto his face.

 

"Ha! You smiled, I win," she crowed.

 

"Yeah, yeah, just go get us something to eat."

 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Guard, sir!" She saluted him mockingly before weaving around benches and other kitchen staff members.

 

It was easy to see why the affectionately abrasive kitchen worker was the apple of the ill-tempered guard's eye, Gavin thought. They complimented each other well.

 

Lindsay returned moments later with a platter piled with slices of cured meat, fresh bread, cheese and milk - enough for all three of them, seeing as the two guards hadn't eaten yet either - pinching Michael's ass on her way back to the ovens. The meal was relatively simple, but delicious. The three men tore into the food with gusto, quieting their growling stomachs. Once they'd all had their fill, Ray turned to Gavin and said, "Obviously Michael wants to stay here until Lindsay finishes working because he's a schmuck, but you seem like the type that gets bored easily and starts accidentally breaking stuff. How about we take you to see the gardens?"

 

Gavin nodded. Even though he didn't remember much of his childhood before Geoff took him in, he knew he'd grown up in the forest. Nature was something that had always soothed him, and now that the castle gardens had been mentioned, the mere idea of looking at a tree was making him nostalgic. "Yeah, I'd like that."

 

Ray grinned at him. "Wait 'til you see."

 

~* * *~

 

Gavin's mouth was slack.

 

The gardens were beautiful. Rather than containing and controlling each plant, the castle gardeners had encouraged the plants to grow in harmony with each other. Trees soared, leaves brushing the sky and drinking in sunlight. The height of the trees almost masked the fact that the gardens were in the middle of the Keep, the black towers and walls barely visible above the canopy. Moss and ivy spilled across the tree trunks, tiny flowers and ferns dotting the spaces among the tree roots. A generous swathe of grass made a small clearing, and Gavin fell happily onto his back with a soft thump. From the ground, the castle walls were invisible, and it was easy for him to imagine he was in a glen in the middle of a forest somewhere. He closed his eyes, the spring sunshine warm on his face, and breathed in deeply, inhaling the strong scent of soil and living things.

 

The two guards standing over him gave him a quizzical look.

 

"You, uh, you okay down there?"

 

"'M fine. This place just reminds me of home." He smiled and the guards shifted uncomfortably. They were sure that Gavin was aware of how unlikely it was that he would ever go home, but they weren't sure if he wasn't in denial about it.

 

"Join me," he said suddenly, not opening his eyes.

 

"What?" Michael blinked at him.

 

"Join me," he repeated, patting the ground beside him. The blades of grass sprang back into place as soon as his hand lifted, bright and green and strong.

 

"We are not lying on the ground with you."

 

Eyes still closed, Gavin raised both eyebrows and started patting the ground persistently until they relented, setting down their spears and sinking slowly onto the grass, their light armour making the motions a little awkward. With a few grunts, both guards were lying flat on their backs, one on either side of Gavin.

 

"What the fuck are we doing." Michael's voice was flat.

 

"Close your eyes. Just listen," Gavin urged.

 

"It's actually kinda nice," Ray added, hands folded loosely over his stomach.

 

Michael grumbled something under his breath, but did as he was told. He could see the glow of the sun through his eyelids, feel it heating his skin. The ground beneath him was solid and warm, the air around him crisp and fresh. He could hear the slight breeze whispering through the trees, bringing with it the sound of birdsong and the chattering of small animals. Michael had to admit it was pretty nice - he hadn't really taken the time to just lie down and bask in the sun since his childhood. It was relaxing.

 

Years of working as guards meant that Michael and Ray were fairly used to staying in one spot for a long time, and lying in the sunshine was certainly a lot better than standing at attention within the castle. Gavin, however, had an interminable amount of energy, and even though he did thoroughly enjoy stopping to appreciate nature, he could only do so for a short while before he became restless.

 

Springing suddenly to his feet, he asked the guards to show him more of the castle. They gathered their spears and started showing him the many rooms of the Black Keep - the vast library, the enormous dining hall, and the doors of the royal laboratory, which Gavin was not allowed to actually enter without direct supervision from the King.

 

Gavin hadn't realised quite how big the castle was - having been a little too unconscious on arrival to be taking in the sights - until they returned to the kitchens for a late dinner, less than half the castle explored. He was almost glad that Ryan was too busy to call for him that night. Exhausted from trekking up and down the endless flights of stairs that the castle boasted, Gavin barely managed to keep his eyes open long enough to get undressed and slump onto his bed in what he'd dubbed the Green Room, falling asleep almost as soon as he clambered under the covers.


	6. Chapter 6

At times it disturbed Gavin how easily he'd slipped into the rhythm of his new life as the Mad King's glorified sex slave. But then, aside from the aforementioned sex and no longer having to sit in on meetings with local dignitaries, Gavin's days were spent in a strikingly similar manner as they would have been at Geoff's castle. So what if he couldn't exactly pinpoint when it was that the clothes he was provided with changed from the soft green and grey of the House of Ramsey to the blood red and deepest black of the Haywood Clan? Or if he was unsure how long it took for him to stop waiting to be invited to Ryan's quarters of a night before going there? He never had been one to dwell much on things, and quickly accepted that this was what his life had become. He buried the thought that he'd likely never be able to return home, and instead focused on the positives. After all, it could have been much worse.

 

Ryan wasn't just interested in sex with Gavin; once the King's duties were finished for the day, and both their bodies were spent, they often talked until Gavin lost the battle with his desire for sleep. He always tried to outlast the older man, but he never saw Ryan close his eyes for longer than a blink. Gavin would wake up in the Green Room, with only a vague impression of being carried there the night before. He could never be sure, but he liked to imagine it had been Ryan carrying him, rather than the guards.

 

Frequently, Gavin would lose track of the conversation when Ryan strayed into a discussion about science, but what he did understand, Gavin found fascinating. Ryan showed him the royal laboratories, and Gavin marvelled at all the strange contraptions, carefully labelled specimens and bottles of potions housed in the room. He flitted from one thing to the next with undisguised awe, asking a million questions about each. Delighted that Gavin was taking such an interest in a subject he himself was so passionate about, Ryan answered as much as he could, even when Gavin's questions became absurd or completely illogical. Their differences in logic sometimes led to heated debates as they both tried to make themselves understood, often leaving both of them exasperated and the issue unresolved. One argument about probabilities generated such a level of frustration that in a flash of anger, Ryan hurled a beaker at the wall, a little too close to Gavin's head for comfort. Wisely, Gavin took care to never bring up that particular subject again.

 

The King asked him about his life back in Geoff's kingdom, and Gavin regaled him with tales of his exploits - from stealing sweets from the castle kitchens, to directing his archers in battles against marauders and rival kingdoms, to trying to teach his knight friend Dan how to shoot a bow and arrow, with hilarious results. He left out how deep his relationship with Dan once ran, fearing what Ryan might do if he became jealous.

 

Something Gavin was definitely grateful for, though, was the amount of freedom he was given. After a quick morning visit to the royal labs to check on one of Ryan's ongoing experiments, the King led him to the keep's archery range, a large open field nestled against a densely wooded forest. One of the keep staff approached them, carrying a cloth-covered bundle. He bowed deeply to the King with a reverent, "My Lord," before handing the bundle to Gavin and scurrying off without another word. Curious, Gavin flicked the cloth to the side and almost gasped when presented with the bow -  _his_  bow - that had been confiscated just before his arrival at the castle. Gavin ran his fingers over the glossy limbs like it was a long-lost lover, stilling himself and blushing when he noticed the King's bemused gaze. His quiver had been in the bundle, too, and he slipped it onto his back, the familiar weight settling between his shoulders. With a quick glance at Ryan, who gave an encouraging nod, Gavin drew an arrow from his quiver and began firing a volley into the nearest target. Ryan watched him with keen eyes. Gavin let the bow drop after firing eight arrows. Not his best work, but he had still managed a fairly impressive grouping; most of the arrows were clustered in or around the bullseye. When they left the range, Gavin wasn't allowed to take the bow and quiver with him, but the fact that he'd been allowed to access them at all was nothing short of staggering.

 

A few days later, Ryan invited Gavin to watch his sword practice. An invitation basically equated to an order, but Gavin didn't mind. He'd always heard stories of Ryan's prowess in battle, even before coming to the Black Keep, and was interested to see if the man lived up to the legend.

 

He was not disappointed.

 

The Battlemaster, a burly bearded knight by the name of Adam, was the only man who dared spar with the King. Both men wore light armour, held in place with leather straps over simple black tunics and trousers. The swords they fought with had had their edges dulled, as was customary, but the blades still made a terrific clanging sound every time they connected. Both men attacked with blindingly fast sword-strokes, steel ringing again and again as they blocked and parried ferociously. There was a light in Ryan's eyes that Gavin had never seen before, at least not to this degree of intensity - it spoke of a man who revelled in combat, one who relished in overpowering and subduing his adversaries. His every movement was purposeful, graceful, each stroke flowing smoothly into the next. The duel ranged across the entire practice ring, largely from Adam conceding ground before the King then nimbly slipping away to the other side of the ring, surprisingly quick on his feet despite his bulk.

 

While an expert swordsman, as would be expected of someone in his position, Adam didn't have Ryan's natural talent. The King blocked or deflected the Battlemaster's every blow, sword swinging with bewildering speed. Occasionally, Ryan's sword snaked past Adam's guard and the King would pull the blow, so that Adam would be left with bruises rather than potentially life-threatening wounds. Then, with a motion that Gavin couldn't completely follow, Adam's weapon had clattered to the ground, the tip of Ryan's sword mere centimetres from his neck. A few seconds later, the King let the blade drop, and sheathed it, reaching forward with his free hand to clasp Adam's forearm. "Well fought, Battlemaster."

 

"Never enough to best you, my Lord," the Battlemaster responded, grinning wearily and stooping to pick up his fallen weapon. Both men were sweating from exertion, their chests still heaving with ragged breaths that were slowly returning to normal.

 

Ryan removed his helmet, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair as he scanned the crowd of spectators. His eyes locked onto Gavin's and he grinned at the younger man. Gavin smiled tentatively back, struck suddenly by Ryan's raw magnetism. There was something powerful, almost primal, in the light in the King's eyes, in the upward curve of his mouth, in the strong set of his shoulders. With the way that the King looked now, Gavin was sure that he would do anything that Ryan asked of him; that if Ryan approached him with a sword in hand, ready to strike, Gavin would surrender without question.

 

In that brief moment of eye contact, Gavin realised how completely and royally screwed he was. There was absolutely no going back from what he'd done, and any slight delusion that he may have had about that fact finally dissolved.

 

Then he accepted it, because it had always been his nature to roll with the punches.

 

And, as he'd reminded himself before, it could have been much worse.

 

~* * *~

 

One day, Gavin wistfully reminisced on how much he missed horse riding. The very next, Michael and Ray took him down the stables and led him to a gorgeous bay mare named Ember. Gavin felt a pang of longing for his own horse, Grisham, but quickly grew to love the sweet-tempered mare.

 

When he could find the time, Ryan would ride with him on his own jet black war charger, claiming the horse needed exercise anyway as an excuse for not taking a horse more suitable for a social ride. It was obvious how much he cared for the animal, sneaking him apples or carrots when he thought no one was looking. Gavin's preconception of Ryan as an unstable and cruel monarch had quickly melted away, and it was all too easy to forget his brief moments of violence or the fact that he was about to be at war with Gavin's adoptive father.

 

More often than not, Ryan was unable to find time in his schedule to go for a decent ride. On those days, Michael and Ray would ride with him. Because being Gavin's personal guards took them away from their regular duties, which largely consisted of standing at attention for hours at a time and being bored, an easy friendship was struck between the two guards and the Prince Regent, after overcoming their initial rocky relationship. Gavin smiled wide at the unlikely match, but it dimmed when he wondered whether or not Prince Regent was a title he could claim anymore.

 

Michael noticed Gavin's horse slowing and shouted at him to snap out of whatever daydream he was having. There was laughter in the words, though, and Gavin forced a sheepish grin onto his face as he urged Ember to catch up, not mentioning his heavy thoughts. Gavin found both Ray's dry wit and Michael's sarcastic humour hilarious, and even though they often found Gavin's inane commentary to be irritating, his infectious energy made it hard for the two guards to stay mad at him for long.

 

The days had turned into weeks, and suddenly almost two months had passed since Gavin's arrival at the castle. It was a beautiful summer day, and Ryan had managed to squeeze a good horse ride with Gavin into his schedule. They were making their way back to the castle, Gavin grinning as Ryan chuckled at a joke he'd made when a guard Gavin didn't recognise rushed towards them. "Your Majesty!" he gasped, taking deep breaths as he bowed. "King Geoffrey has sent his demands. His army is set to reach the castle in four days." He handed over a roll of parchment, sealed with green wax stamped with the Ramsey crest. Ryan broke the seal and started reading, dismissing the guard with a wave of his hand. Gavin, the carefree happiness that had been with him on the ride instantly swept away by shame and concern, leaned in his saddle to try and catch a glimpse of what was on the paper. Ryan angled it away from him and quickly read the contents.

 

With a displeased frown, he rerolled the parchment and tucked it into his coat pocket. "He's going to have to try a lot harder than that if he wants to avoid bloodshed," he muttered darkly, eyes like storm clouds. In that moment, the bubble of denial Gavin had been living for the past few months burst, and he looked at the Mad King in horror. If Geoff were here right now, Gavin knew that Ryan would try to kill him without hesitation. And, considering that Geoff was a competent swordsman but had never been able to truly master the weapon, Ryan would probably succeed. Gavin considered turning Ember around and fleeing into the forest, but there were several hundred metres of open ground before the trees actually thickened, and while Ember was fleet-footed, the Mad King's war charger would catch up to her before she made it to the tree line. Ryan noticed Gavin's torn expression and his gaze hardened further.

 

"Come along, Gavin." Ryan's tone of voice, as it often did, made the words sound like a command. With one last forlorn glance back at the forest, Gavin nudged his horse into a slow trot, trailing dejectedly back to the Keep behind the Mad King.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the smut makes its triumphant comeback! With blowjobs! Word of caution, Ryan gets a little... rough in this one. But hey, this is listed as a non-con fic, so I'm assuming everyone reading this is sort of expecting that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd planned from the beginning to put blowjobs in this story at some point, but it's because a tumblr anon specifically requested them to be added that the smut portion of this chapter is as long as it is. Thank you, random anon! I certainly enjoyed writing a more lengthy version of this than I'd originally intended, I hope it's to your satisfaction!

The Mad King was angry. Gavin hadn't really seen him like this before. True, he'd seen the brief flashes of rage that would make him yell or lash out or hurl things around the room, but those were only ever a few seconds at a time - Ryan would always take control of his primal nature and push it back down, brushing the whole thing off with a smile. This time, he wasn't even bothering to try and shove that crueller side of himself away. He dragged Gavin down the dark-walled corridors of the castle, the younger man's forearm in a bruising grip. Gavin stumbled, struggling to keep up with the hard pace Ryan was setting.

 

They reached Ryan's chambers without a word. Michael and Ray weren't there, still on their scheduled break. Ryan wrenched the door open, yanking Gavin into the room after him and slamming it shut behind them.

 

"You were thinking of running away."

 

Gavin started stammering a denial, but Ryan's grip tightened even further and Gavin's knees buckled.

 

"Don't lie to me. I could see it in your eyes."

 

Those eyes were now starting to water from the pain and Gavin choked out an apology. Ryan shook his head angrily.

 

"You're only sorry because you're scared. Because you know I can hurt you." He let out an irritated sigh. His fury, although still very much present, softened slightly at the edges. "I think it's time you're reminded of your place."

 

His vice-like grip on Gavin's arm slackened, allowing the younger man to stand. Ryan deftly unbuttoned his black riding coat, dropping it to the floor. Once Gavin had straightened, Ryan's mouth crashed down onto his, and any fleeting thought Gavin had of rebelling against the kiss was swept away by the sheer power and passion that the Mad King was putting into it. Gavin's mouth felt like he himself no longer owned it, Ryan claiming it all with his tongue. This was the most intense Ryan had ever been with him - which was certainly saying something - and Gavin was in equal parts aroused and terrified.

 

Ryan started to tear Gavin's clothes from his body - literally. Rather than give the younger man respite from the kiss, he grabbed the V of the neckline of Gavin's shirt with both hands and tore down, ripping it down the front. He pushed the material off over Gavin's shoulders, the loose cuffs letting the ruined shirt fall to the ground of its own accord. One of Ryan's hands fisted tightly in Gavin's hair, the other pinching roughly at one of Gavin's nipples, fingernails raking down the younger man's side. In response, Gavin breathed in sharply through his nose, making a small sound somewhere in his throat.

 

With an unexpected suddenness, Ryan pulled away from the kiss, moving to bite a harsh mark onto Gavin's neck. The younger man gasped, eyes flying wide open.

 

"Kneel." The Mad King put a hand on his shoulder, squeezed, pushed him down. Ryan tossed his crown onto the bed and pulled his shirt over his head, staring down at Gavin as an imposing wall of muscle. Gavin's face was level with the front of the Mad King's kilt, and it was very clear what was expected of him.

 

Lips swollen and cheeks flushed, he looked imploringly up at Ryan. "Ryan, I... I don't know if I can. I've got a terrible gag reflex, and I..." His face reddened further, eyes dropping. "I don't think I'd be very good."

 

"Take what you can, use your hands for the rest." Ryan's tone brooked no argument, and he threaded his fingers through Gavin's hair, forcing him to look up again. "You will do well, or I will  _make_  you do well. Understand?"

 

Gavin nodded.

 

_"Then show me."_

 

Fingers trembling just the slightest bit, Gavin unclasped Ryan's belt, letting it fall. He fumbled a little while trying to untuck the kilt, but he managed it, the fabric joining the belt on the floor. He placed his hands on Ryan's hips to still their tremors, and licked his lips before gently wrapping them around the head of Ryan's cock. Slowly, Gavin took Ryan's length into his mouth, but gagged almost immediately when the tip brushed against the back of his throat. He pulled off and sent an apologetic look up at Ryan, who just grunted, displeased.

 

Suitably chastened, Gavin licked a wide stripe against the base of Ryan's cock, placing open-mouthed kisses along the shaft. Gavin hoped that wetting it with his saliva would make the slide into his mouth a little easier, because he needed all the help he could get.

 

Ryan tugged sharply at Gavin's hair. The message was clear: get on with it. Gavin nodded slightly, almost to himself, and took Ryan's cock into his mouth once more. He bobbed his head slowly, trying to take a little more of Ryan in each time. It was a monumental effort to suppress the urge to choke, but somehow, finally, he managed it, scooting forward on his knees as he took more in. He remembered Ryan's earlier instruction and moved one hand to the base of Ryan's cock, pumping his fingers back and forth over what wasn't yet in his mouth.

 

Gavin prepared himself to swallow down the entirety of Ryan's length, when suddenly his own thought process was taken out of the equation. Unsatisfied with the speed at which things were progressing, Ryan readjusted his grip on the back of Gavin's head and pulled the younger man forward, until Gavin's nose nestled against the wiry curls that crested at the base of Ryan's cock.

 

His careful control over his gag reflex shattered, Gavin choked desperately around the cock in his throat. Ryan pulled Gavin away almost completely, steadying himself with his free hand against one of the bedposts before pulling the younger man's mouth all the way back down again, setting up a punishing rhythm. It was an incredibly well-calculated thing - if he went at it any harder or faster, there would have been no way that Gavin would have been able to keep up. As it was, the young Prince Regent had to fight for air, breathing strongly through his nose. His hands clutched at Ryan's thighs, providing the younger man with a meagre amount of stabilisation and support. All he could do was make sure that his tongue was flat against the base of Ryan's cock and that his teeth didn't get in the way.

 

It wasn't long before Ryan began thrusting into Gavin's mouth as a counterpoint, unable to stifle a moan as he threw his head back in pleasure. Involuntary tears welled up in Gavin's eyes as Ryan increased the pace fractionally every time the Prince Regent started to hit his stride, negating any relief Gavin got from getting used to the unforgiving rhythm.

 

After several minutes, Ryan's motions became erratic, the hand tangled in Gavin's hair clenching ever tighter. Gavin, sensing what was coming, tried to pull away, but the Mad King's grip was firm. Ryan let out a groan, pulling Gavin's mouth flush against him, hot spurts suddenly coursing down the younger man's throat. With little other choice, Gavin swallowed the salty fluid, grimacing slightly at the taste. Ryan pulled out of Gavin's abused mouth slowly, a thin line of saliva connecting the tip of his cock to Gavin's swollen lips.

 

"Rise," the Mad King ordered him, voice a little rough, and Gavin stood on shaky legs, only for Ryan to push him backwards onto the bed. Gavin squawked as he hit the covers, arms flailing. He recovered himself and stripped to his underwear before Ryan could even prompt him to do so. For his part, the Mad King wrapped his kilt loosely about his hips, but for now didn't bother with his belt.

 

"Hands above your head. Do  _not_  move them unless I tell you to." Gavin complied quickly, shivering as Ryan's hands trailed down his sides. He couldn't help but notice that Ryan was now sitting between his legs as they dangled over the edge of the bed. He was already achingly hard - something that he'd somehow failed to notice up until that point - and Ryan's proximity made his cock twitch.

 

Ryan grinned fiendishly at the younger man, placing one hand firmly on Gavin's stomach to hold him down as he mouthed briefly at the tented fabric of Gavin's pants. Gavin tried to say something, but the light touch against the already oversensitive area and his own disbelief that the Mad King was actually doing this robbed him of all coherence, the words coming out as a breathy, indecipherable jumble.

 

Ryan chuckled darkly, mouth still against the younger man, which sent even more pleasurable sensation shooting through Gavin's body. He made pleading noises at Ryan, still unable to actually form words, as the Mad King continued to tease him. Gavin tried to arch his back, to thrust up against Ryan's mouth,  _something_  to generate some sort of relief, but Ryan's hand was steady, pushing him against the mattress. His fingers began unlacing the front of Gavin's breeches, torturously slowly. Gavin mewled pathetically at the infuriatingly small amount of friction that Ryan's movements were generating, all his self-control being directed into keeping his arms above his head.

 

Maintaining the same slow speed, Ryan began pulling down the loosened underwear, tugging faster once Gavin's cock was freed from the fabric. A full-body shiver ran through Gavin, then Ryan's warm hand was back on his stomach, bare chest brushing lightly against the inside of Gavin's thighs. Ryan sat back on his haunches a little and sucked marks onto the previously unblemished skin of Gavin's inner thighs, making his way gradually and inexorably upwards. The muscles in Gavin's legs twitched at each touch. He whimpered as Ryan's hot breath ghosted over his aching cock, so tantalisingly close but not actually making contact. "Please," Gavin begged, unable to stand it any longer. He practically screamed as Ryan's teeth scraped against the underside of his cock, the sound ending in a hopeless sob.

 

The Mad King lifted his head and raised an eyebrow at him, his tone reprimanding. "Please  _what_?"

 

"Please... my King," he panted, sincerely hoping that this was what Ryan wanted to hear.

 

A long, drawn-out groan sighed past Gavin's lips when Ryan took him into his mouth, that wonderful warm wetness suddenly becoming the centre of Gavin's entire universe. Gavin's neck was sore from holding his head up so that he could watch what Ryan was doing, and now it finally fell back against the covers. His spine tried to arch away from the bed, but Ryan's hand was still firm and resolute against his midsection. Gavin writhed impotently as Ryan swirled his tongue around the head of his cock, then bobbed his head and hollowed his cheeks around Gavin's length. Gavin's arms trembled from the effort it took to keep them bunched in the bedsheets above his head. The obscene sucking sound that Ryan's mouth was making made Gavin's ears burn and his fingers twitch with the desire to run his fingers through the Mad King's hair. Gritting his teeth around another moan, he instead fisted them further into the covers, fingernails biting into his thumb even through the fabric. Ryan's mouth continued to work its skilled magic - first gliding smoothly up and down Gavin's shaft, then pulling off with a pop to suck lightly at the younger man's balls, only to suddenly disappear altogether, leaving Gavin a pleading, sobbing mess.

 

Ryan continued to taunt him with these fleeting touches. It got to the point where every time Ryan touched him just the slightest bit, Gavin would quiver and moan, barely able to muster the strength to keep his arms up over his head. Ryan knew just how far he could push Gavin without actually sending him over the edge, and the Mad King mercilessly left him hanging over this precipice every time Gavin thought the older man was finally about to relent.

 

Then came the moment that Ryan pulled his mouth away from Gavin and didn't tease him with it again within a few seconds. Gavin's incoherent grunts quickly morphed into half-phrased pleas, his desperation and arousal destroying his ability to string syllables together in an intelligible manner. This soon gave way to tears of despair and pained cries of the Mad King's name. Gavin thrashed helplessly against Ryan's strong grip, somehow amidst this torture remembering to keep his hands bunched into the covers.

 

"Let me remind you of your current standing once more." Ryan's voice was low, his breath brushing against Gavin's straining erection. The younger man groaned weakly at the sensation, practically undone. "You have betrayed the House of Ramsey for me. You have given me everything, and you will give me anything else I desire from you." The hand on Gavin's thigh tightened just enough to leave a bruise. Gavin's head dropped listlessly against the covers, then he howled as Ryan scraped his teeth over the head of Gavin's cock. "You are  _mine,_  and you  _will_  do whatever I want you to," the Mad King all but growled. "Is that understood?"

 

Gavin nodded desperately, affirmation not able to fall from his lips fast enough. "I do, I will, I-I'll do anything for you, Ryan, my King, anything you want,  _please_ -" His neck strained and his upper torso crunched forward so that he could look into Ryan's eyes, letting him see the earnestness there.

 

Ryan smiled at him, but it was like a big cat showing its teeth. "I'm glad we've reached this understanding. And of course, I'll reward you for it." He licked a broad stripe against the underside of Gavin's cock, then moved the hand pressing down against Gavin's midsection, pumping it quickly along Gavin's length. The Prince Regent cried out, hips bucking upwards without any conscious command as he spilled onto his own stomach.

 

Gavin went blind with pleasure. Ryan worked him through until he was completely spent, then wiped his hand on the taut and still trembling skin of Gavin's abdomen.

 

"I take it you've learned your lesson?" Ryan inquired mildly as he stood, his anger having given way to satisfaction.

 

Gavin nodded, standing slowly on weak legs and quietly going about collecting his clothes, not trusting himself to be coordinated enough to wipe himself down properly. Ryan stopped him with a casual hand motion.

 

"Leave them. One of the chambermaids will be along to clear them away."

 

"My King?" Gavin replied uncertainly, freezing as he stooped towards his shirt, fingers outstretched.

 

The Mad King locked their gazes so that there could be no mistake. "I believe you know your way back to your rooms by now. After all, a little punishment will give you a greater appreciation of your rewards."

 

"But..." The protest died on his lips as he saw the dangerous glint in Ryan's eyes. His face now red with more than just afterglow, Gavin reluctantly dropped the clothes he'd gathered, and, completely bare except for the semen still coating his stomach, lowered his eyes and left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be three chapters long. How did this happen.

It was late at night, almost a week later, and Ryan had taken Gavin to the throne room. Gavin saw the room differently now than when he had first been brought into it, not least of all because this time, he was sitting on the throne. Well, sitting in Ryan's lap, who was sitting on the throne. It all amounted to the same thing, really. From the higher vantage point, Gavin could really understand the appeal of ruling a kingdom - something that, even as Prince Regent, had always managed to escape him. The walls, adorned with their rich tapestries, felt like they belonged to him when he was sitting so high. There was a lull in their easy conversation, and Ryan's hand trailed absently down Gavin's arm, gripping him at the wrist and turning the younger man towards him. Gavin shifted himself to accommodate the change in position, swinging his legs over one arm of the throne.

 

Kissing at the dappled bruises on Gavin's neck that were testimony of their nights spent together, Ryan's hands travelled down and worked the hem of Gavin's shirt free from his pants, pushing the fabric up around his waist. Ryan's mouth made its way to Gavin's, and Gavin slipped his hand around the King's neck, fingers threading through soft golden-blond hair and deepening the kiss. As always, Ryan took control the kiss, claiming dominion over Gavin's mouth like it was a conquered land. He would break away occasionally and add a new bruise to the ever-growing collection of love bites on Gavin's neck and collarbones. Gavin made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and closed his eyes.

 

Ryan began palming suddenly and insistently at the growing bulge in Gavin's pants, and the younger man couldn't help but let slip a small yelp, eyes flying open again. Here?  _Now?_  Granted, it was late, but still someone could walk into the room at any moment and  _see_ -

 

And that's exactly what they did. The doors opened and Michael and Ray strode forward, a chained man walking proudly between them, noble despite the numerous cuts and bruises adorning his body. Gavin's heart skipped a beat and wrenched sideways as he recognised Geoff underneath the battle grime. Dismay filled him as Ryan smirked into his hair. The Mad King had planned this.

 

He almost couldn't bring himself to look Geoff in the eye, but when he did, there was none of the disgust he'd been fearing. Only confusion and sadness and disappointment - all of which were a thousand times worse.

 

"Geoff- I-" He stammered, knowing full well he'd been caught red-handed. He was sitting on the Mad King's lap, shirt pushed up to expose his stomach and lips kiss-swollen, Ryan's hand still hovering dangerously close to Gavin's crotch. Ryan shushed him gently and Gavin complied, setting off a spark of something new in Geoff's eyes.

 

 

"What have you been doing to my son, you bastard!" Geoff jerked angrily at the shackles around his wrists, hands curled into claws as he tried to pull away from the guards.

 

Ryan shrugged nonchalantly. "Fucking him, mostly. You should hear the noises he makes."

 

Gavin's face burned, unable to meet Geoff's eyes as Ryan's arm circled possessively around his waist.

 

An incoherent roar ripped itself from Geoff's throat, and Gavin flinched. He'd never seen Geoff so furious. Suddenly, Geoff tore free from Ray and Michael's grasp, surging up the stairs. Ryan watched calmly as he approached, still holding Gavin in his lap. The guards caught up and grabbed Geoff’s arms when he was just inches from the throne. His face was level with Gavin's, whose eyes searched for forgiveness, but only found anger and grief.

 

Ryan grinned wickedly, pressing the palm of his hand against Gavin's crotch. Gavin tried to keep his expression neutral, but failed, his body jerking involuntarily at the unexpected touch. Geoff's eyes hardened and Gavin shrunk away from his gaze. There was something new there that struck Gavin to the core - betrayal.

 

Ryan smiled serenely at Geoff. "Seeing that look on your face... It was hard, but I was sure that it would be worth staying out of the battle so I could do this. Thank you for proving me right."

 

"You asshole," Geoff choked out around the lump in his throat.

 

The Mad King tutted. "You'd think that a man with such a loving wife as yours would be better at keeping his head. After all, you wouldn't want something to happen to her."

 

Geoff went white as a sheet. "You've already taken my son from me. Don't you dare touch my wife, you son of a bitch."

 

 _I'm still here_ , Gavin wanted to cry out.  _I'm still your son_. But deep down, he knew this betrayal of Geoff's trust was too great, and it made him want to shrivel up into nonexistence.

  
"Why shouldn't I, Geoffrey?" Ryan's arm tightened unconsciously around Gavin's waist, voice hard and clipped. "You've never drawn the line at going after family before."

 

"Don't." Geoff said warningly, suddenly recoiling. "Don't do this."

 

Gavin looked between the two Kings, suddenly confused. What were they talking about?

 

"Interesting," Ryan murmured. "You do still care. And you haven't told Gavin, either." The Mad King gave Gavin a light squeeze. "Well, then, allow me to fill him in." Geoff made a small pleading sound, shaking his head, but Ryan ignored him.

 

"This was over a decade ago, back when my father was still alive. Geoff and I were good childhood friends." Gavin started with surprise. Geoff had indeed not told him this. Ryan smiled. "Yes, I rather thought he had that omitted from your history lessons, though I doubt you would have been listening much in that particular subject regardless. Anyway, our parents held council with each other often, and we'd play together, getting into all sorts of trouble at whichever castle we were in. Of course, I was too young to understand that our parents were having serious arguments over the peace treaties between our two kingdoms, and Geoff was at the rebellious stage of being a teenager and completely ignored whatever politics his father tried to force into his head. As you're no doubt aware, Geoff is several years older than I am. He was like an older brother to me, and that was something I'd never had, something I  _always_  wanted. I looked up to him, was so  _grateful_  that he'd made the effort to befriend me rather than brush me off, like the princes I'd met from other kingdoms. I practically worshipped him. I realise now that he probably became my friend, in some part, to spite his father, but we had fun nonetheless.

 

"Shortly after my eighteenth birthday, the uneasy truce between our kingdoms was broken. War ensued, and I implored my father to stop, told him that I would join the battle too if he did. I thought the threat of losing the only heir to the throne would stop him. It didn't. He led the charge, and, since there was no way I could back out without looking weak and indecisive, I took my place in the ranks as a knight. Do you know what happened then, Gavin? Do you know what Geoff did?" Ryan's voice dropped to a hiss, mouth against Gavin's ear. "Your father killed mine."

 

Ryan fisted his hand in Gavin's hair, forcing him to look at Geoff. Now, it was Geoff's turn to be unable to maintain eye contact. Ryan's voice maintained its harsh tone. "He was an old man with a history of sickness, and I saw Geoff stab him through the neck." Geoff flinched like he'd been struck. Gavin got the impression that Geoff hadn't known that Ryan had seen what happened himself. Ryan continued on as if he didn't notice Geoff's reaction.

 

"The numbers of Geoff's father's army were decimated, but my kingdom was without a monarch who knew how to command in the battlefield. I was barely old enough to take the throne, and I had no idea what to do. My best friend had just killed my father, and I had loved both of them dearly. The remaining Generals of my father's armies tried to rally the men, pull them back into rank, but they were all panicking. We were completely disorganised, and Geoff's father's armies were too outnumbered to hope for anything more than complete annihilation of both sides. Nobody wanted that.

 

"The war ended with a stalemate, and we settled again into a peace that your father has just broken. As you can tell, things went a little differently this time. The Ramsey forces have been dramatically reduced and even now are slinking back to their castle, but the Haywood monarch remains very much alive."

 

Geoff shook his head vehemently as Michael and Ray finally hauled him down the steps, Michael pointing his spear under Geoff's chin in case he tried to break away again. "No. My troops are loyal to me. Even if I told them not to, they'd regroup and find a way in."

 

Ryan inspected his nails for non-existent specks of dirt. "Well, their leaving might have something to do with the corpse that has roughly your body shape and hair colour that's currently strung up on the battlements. Its eyes are gouged out, so it would have been hard for them to get a proper look at the face, even if it wasn't so high up. Besides, they know you were captured, and they know my reputation. What reason do they have to believe that it isn't you up there, slowly rotting apart?"

 

Geoff sagged, defeated, not caring that the head of Michael's spear was now drawing blood. The guard hastily moved the weapon away from Geoff's neck regardless. Gavin felt like he was going to throw up.

 

"Of course, that begs the question of what to do with you now."

 

"Please don't kill him," Gavin blurted, as usual having little filter between his mouth and his brain.

 

The Mad King laughed, throwing his head back. "Hear that, Geoff?" he chuckled. "He knows what you've done, and still he is loyal to you. Of course, that didn't stop him from telling me your battle plans."

 

Gavin couldn't bear to see the fresh look of betrayal on Geoff's face.

 

"...What?"

 

"Oh, granted he held out against my methods of interrogation for an admirable amount of time. I think I fucked him for almost an hour before I broke him." He stroked Gavin's cheek lovingly. "Had him screaming my name. Even got him to call me his King." He grinned at Geoff's obviously pained expression.

 

"Please," Gavin whispered dejectedly. "Let him go. I'll stay here, I'll do whatever you want me to and I won't ever say no."

 

"Gavin, don't do this," Geoff pleaded. He may not have forgiven Gavin for what he had done - he probably never truly would - but that didn't mean he wanted to leave the young man in the clutches of the Mad King.

 

Gavin gave his father a watery smile. "Just let him go, your Majesty."

 

Ryan pondered for a moment. "What will people think if I do, I wonder? Will they call me merciful, allowing my beaten enemy to live and return to his wife? After all, his army barely numbers a few hundred now. He's no real threat.

 

"Or will they say that he must be a truly powerful and fearsome King, for even the Mad King was too afraid to slay him? Will the other kingdoms grow bold, and join forces with him and lay waste to my lands, slaughtering my people?"

 

"They won't," Gavin muttered. "The whole reason he pushed so hard to get here was to save me, and if he goes back without me, everyone will know he lost. Everyone knows your reputation, they'll say you let him live because it's crueller to let him suffer life with the knowledge that he failed."

 

The Mad King smiled. "See, Geoff? He's already starting to think like me. And honestly, he's got a good point. Why don't you go ahead and let the nice guards escort you out of the castle? Hurry now, before I change my mind."

 

"I'll come back for you, Gavin," Geoff promised.

 

"He's already where he wants to be," Ryan replied coldly.

 

With a last forlorn glance back at Gavin, and no real choice in the matter, Geoff was led out of the throne room, the doors clanking shut behind them.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! I hope you all enjoy it!

"You knew this would happen from the start," Gavin said dully, staring at the door as if he could bring Geoff back into the room through sheer force of will.

 

"Naturally. I'm surprised you didn't catch on. Or maybe some part of you did, and decided to ignore it."

 

"But..." Gavin trailed off helplessly, angry self-admonishments swirling through his head. What was he  _thinking_? That Ryan would just let them both go? That he'd seduced Gavin without any political motives? That the Mad King might have even fallen in  _love_  with him?

 

God, he was so stupid. He should have realised that all the attention that Ryan gave him in whatever time he had away from his kingly duties was just a ploy. Mind games were bread and butter to people like Ryan. Gavin should never have been deluded enough to fall for him.

 

Because that was the undeniable truth; even with what had just happened, Gavin was in love with Ryan. At that moment, Gavin wished with everything in him that he didn't feel the way he did. It was making things so much more complicated than they needed to be. It would be so much easier - and so much more logical - to be able to hate Ryan for the way he'd just destroyed his relationship with Geoff. But the unassailable truth remained, and there was exactly nothing that Gavin could do about it.

 

Ryan chuckled suddenly. "Have you finished sulking?"

 

"What do you want from me?" Gavin asked with a tired voice.

 

Unexpectedly, Ryan paused, as if carefully going over what he wanted to say. Gavin found it within himself to break through his self-pity enough to be surprised. In all the time that he'd known the Mad King, he'd never seen the man have to pick over his words like this.

 

"I know you won't believe me right now, but my advances towards you have been genuine." Ryan began. "I won't lie, my initial thinking was to make you mine and show you off to Geoff, because I'd been holding onto my grudge for so long and had been waiting for the right opportunity to act on it. Then you showed up practically on my doorstep. It couldn't have been more prefect.

 

"At first, I planned on utterly breaking you down, bending you completely to my will - basically turning you into a mindless pet. I didn't expect you to react so positively right away - honestly, I expected you to be hostile outside of our ...sessions, I certainly didn't expect you to want to spend time in my company - and you endeared yourself to me rather quickly. My overall goal was still to get to Geoff, but I realised I didn't want to change who you were. Perhaps it's because I haven't been able to really talk to anyone on my level since my early adulthood, but, even though sometimes you try my patience, I've found myself enjoying your companionship completely separate from that ulterior motive. Make no mistake - you are mine, in every sense of the word. But your feelings matter to me. Do you understand?"

 

Gavin didn't nod. He didn't shake his head. He was too petrified and confused to even move.

 

The Mad King made a soothing noise, running his fingers gently through Gavin's hair. "You  _do_  realise what your position here is, don't you? You heard what Geoff said. He practically denounced you. Even if you rushed after him now and swore your loyalty to him, I doubt it would do you any good. After all, if you broke your oath once, how can he trust you not to do so again?"

 

"And how can you be so sure I won't do the same to you?" Gavin replied bitterly, too caught up with self-hatred over how easily he'd fallen for the Mad King's ploy to have much concern for how much trouble his words could get him in.

 

But Ryan just chuckled. "Because I have far better... shall we say...  _incentives_  for you than Geoff could ever hope to have. You'll stay here simply because  _I'm_  here."

 

Ryan let him stew on this for a few moments before removing his arm from Gavin's waist, giving the younger man unspoken permission to stand up. Gavin sat frozen, unsure. The Mad King sighed.

 

"I can see that you haven't quite come to terms with all of this. That's alright. It's perfectly reasonable that it'll take a little while for it to sink in. I'll tell you what, you can take a week off. I won't call on you for seven days. Michael and Ray will remain as your personal guards, but otherwise you may do as you please. You could break everything in your room and throw it through your window, and I wouldn't particularly mind. You might get a bit chilly at night, though." He smiled briefly. "But at the end of the seven days, I'll be expecting you to be at my door with your answer."

 

"...My answer?" Gavin turned his head to look at Ryan, confused.

 

Blue eyes bored into green. "Yes. Whether you wish to return to the Ramsey castle, or stay here, at the Black Keep."

 

Ryan laughed, long and deep, at the increasingly bewildered expression on Gavin's face. Gavin could feel the laughter vibrating up through his sides where their bodies touched. "Gavin, if after all this time, you truly want to be there instead of here, I won't stop you from leaving. I told you already, I don't want to completely break you. It would sadden me to see you lose your spark. I want what is best for you, both emotionally and physically.

 

"But be aware that if you choose to leave, you will never see me again. You will be barred from re-entering my kingdom. Trespassing would amount to an act of war, and I would respond accordingly. With the Ramsey armies in the state they are, I think it will be some years before they would be able to withstand such an attack. If you stay, however... Negotiations to re-establish the peace treaty between the Ramsay and Haywood kingdoms will take time. Years, even. Geoff has always been incredibly stubborn, hasn't he? I'm sure that once you've proven that you feel you belong here, I could be convinced to let you join me in the treaty delegation to the Ramsey kingdom." He chuckled quietly. "The look on Geoff's face will be something else."

 

"You seem pretty confident about what I'll choose." Gavin's throat was dry and the words came out more raspy and less self-assured than he'd hoped.

 

Ryan grinned, teeth glinting in the torchlight. "I am." He patted the younger man on the arm. "But I'll let you get there on your own. You can go to your room now, if you'd like."

 

Limbs stiff, Gavin scooted himself off the Mad King's lap, soft boots scuffing gently against the top step. He paused a moment, almost expecting Ryan to suddenly reach out and grab him. The monarch simply raised an eyebrow at him, one elbow propped up on the arm of his throne, his hand casually cupping his chin. Gavin turned abruptly and made his way down the stairs.

 

"Oh, and Gavin?" Ryan called out after him, softly but clearly. Gavin stopped, three steps from the bottom, and turned to look back at Ryan. "I wouldn't take any detours on your way if I were you. After all, I'd be a little insulted if you couldn't take my word for it that Geoff's been safely escorted from the castle."

 

Gavin nodded minutely. There had been a not insignificant part of him that had been planning on doing just that, battling with the other part that asked him what he would even say if he did catch up to Geoff.

 

In the end, and as he'd done for the past two months, Gavin bowed to Ryan's wishes. He made his way directly to the Green Room, and flung himself onto his bed, willing himself not to cry.

 

~* * *~

 

It didn't take Gavin the whole week to make up his mind. In fact, it only took him two days to fight through all his anger and frustration and uncertainty and realise that there was only one decision he could make. That it hadn't really been up for decision for quite some time.

 

With five days to spare, Gavin straightened his clothes and left his room, Michael and Ray flanking him on either side. His feet took him on their path without hesitation, having memorised the route by the third time he'd gone down it. A part of him hoped that one day Geoff might forgive him for the choices he'd made, and he pushed the errant thought away. He didn't have time for that sort of thinking anymore. He squared his shoulders and took a deep breath.

 

 _All hail the Mad King_ , he thought wryly, and, checking once again that his clothes were straightened out, knocked on Ryan's door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! What a journey! I can't tell you how much all the comments and messages you guys have given me for this story mean to me. It's because of you, really, that this ended up being nine chapters instead of the originally intended three. When I started writing this, I didn't expect it to get so long, and I certainly didn't expect it to be so popular! I'm not a particularly confident individual, so besides the ego boost I get from kudos and comments and such, I also get a great deal of motivation to write. It always makes me happy to know that people are enjoying my work. So thank you to everyone who commented, messaged me about it, kudoed it or even just read it! You've made writing this story such a pleasant experience, and I'm incredibly grateful for how wonderful you all are. Until the next time!


	10. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Geoff has an overall bad time and makes difficult choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because apparently people are clamouring for more, here's a little epilogue addressing what happens to Geoff once he's escorted from the Mad King's throne room. A sequel will be following soon, too.
> 
> Also, between posting this epilogue and posting the previous chapter, I somehow managed to get more than 50 kudos on this story, pushing it over 200. I may have made a rather unattractive squeaking noise when I saw that. Thank you guys so much! Please, enjoy the epilogue!

Although he tried not to show it, Geoff's nerves were as taut as a bowstring. He wouldn't do anything as undignified as struggle futilely against the guards holding him in an iron grip, and instead walked with his back straight and his chin up, the nobility of his bearing reminding them that they were dealing with a King.

 

He was under no illusion that he would be leaving the castle alive. Which was why he was confused when the two guards escorted him from the Black Keep, crossing the moat and unlocking the shackles on his wrists.

 

"Get going," one of them barked at him, indicating the road leading away from the castle. The other tossed a small bag that he'd picked up on their way out of the castle at Geoff's feet. If rationed carefully, it contained enough food for Geoff to make it back to his own kingdom.

 

"Where's my horse?" Geoff replied stubbornly, arms folded as he peered down his nose at the two shorter guards.

 

The man just shrugged. "In the King's stables, probably. Spoils of war. Besides," he added scornfully, glancing at Geoff's stomach, which bore signs of a life spent enjoying alcohol, "the exercise should do you good."

 

Geoff glared at him, incensed that someone of such a low station in life would dare insult a King to his face. However, there were two of them, and they were armed. Geoff had nothing but his fists, and he didn't trust his chances against those two wickedly sharp spears. He wouldn't even get within two metres of the guards before they skewered him. With what little dignity he could muster, Geoff picked up the bag, turned on his heel and stalked off down the road.

 

~* * *~

 

Geoff swore loudly at the warm sunshine and cheerful birdsong that had woken him. His back ached and his limbs were sore. He stood and stretched slowly, groaning as his joints popped and some of the scabs on his wounds cracked open. He'd already torn off several strips of fabric from the bottom of his cloak, cleaning them as best he could in the river that meandered next to the path he was following before wrapping them around the worst of his injuries. He was terrified that one of the cuts would get infected and that he'd fall to the side of the road, too weak to make it home before blood poisoning killed him.

 

A particular source of concern was the cut on the side of his knee, which was making the whole joint ache and causing him to develop a progressively worsening limp as every step forced the wound to reopen. He was almost glad that he'd been stripped of all his arms and armour when he'd been captured - there was little chance he'd have been able to make any sort of progress when weighed down by all that metal. The downside, of course, was that he had no true means of defending himself against brigands or wild animals. He hid his gold circlet inside his jerkin and hoped that the grime and battle damage would disguise the fine quality of his clothes. That, at least, would make him a less likely target for any bandits.

 

There wasn't all that much he could do about wild animals except for to get through whichever forests he had to traverse as quickly as possible.

 

He knew that he probably wouldn't catch up with the remnants of his armies before they got to the castle. Even encumbered injured men and supplies as they were, they at least had horses and stretchers to help them carry their burdens, whereas Geoff's pace was decreasing every hour as the pain in his leg became harder to ignore. He rebound the makeshift bandage every time he stopped to rest, as it loosened with the motions of walking and increasing the pressure on it helped, if only a little. The setting sun was only just brushing the edge of the horizon, but Geoff couldn't find the motivation to stand up again. Deciding that it was close enough to nightfall anyway, and that rest was really the best thing for him at that point, he ate a cold dinner of slightly stale bread and tough jerked beef, taking a swig of leathery water from the skin he'd been provided along with the food. Uncomfortably aware that he wasn't exactly in his first bloom of youth anymore, and that another night spent sleeping on hard ground would leave him with kinks in his back that would take most of the next morning to work out, Geoff curled himself up in his tattered cloak and resigned himself to another fitful night's sleep.

 

~* * *~

 

It was hardly a kingly figure that slowly hobbled up to the gates of the Ramsey castle, able to do little more than remember to keep putting one blistered foot in front of the other. The guards there crossed their spears in front of him, not recognising him under his travel-stained clothes and generally unkempt appearance. "Please," he croaked, swaying where he stood. "I need..." He staggered, and instinctively one of the sentries surged forward, catching him before he hit the ground. Now closer to, the guard could see the superior quality of the barely-conscious man's clothing underneath the damage and grime, and with a jolt realised who exactly had just collapsed in his arms.

 

"Your Majesty?" he whispered, equal parts elated, incredulous and concerned. The defeated Ramsey soldiers had arrived at the castle just over a day previous, bearing the terrible news of the King's death. Obviously, they had been misled, but it was also clear that although he was alive, the King was not in a good way. "Rouse a replacement for me from the guardhouse," he ordered his shocked companion, who by now had also recognised their ruler. The man nodded numbly, stumbling a little as he turned, heaved the heavy wooden gate doors open, and ran towards the guardhouse. The remaining guard shifted his grip on the King, slinging the semi-conscious man's arm over his shoulder and walking him through the gates, steering him towards the hallway that led to the infirmary. The room was already crammed full of injured soldiers, but several of those with the least threatening injuries immediately cleared space for the new arrival, overjoyed that their monarch was alive. The sounds in the room went from quiet moans of pain to a delighted buzz of conversation, sternly hushed by the orderlies that insisted that insisted that the patients needed quiet to rest. They shooed away the men crowding around the base of the King's bed, needing the space to be able to properly tend to their stricken lord. The healers quickly stripped away his rough, makeshift bandages and cut away the clothing that surrounded each injury, cleansing the wounds with fresh water and salves before redressing them with clean bandages. The treatment roused him and an orderly immediately handed him a small cup of water. He swallowed it down gratefully, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. Then, the healers all protested as he heaved himself out of the small cot he'd been placed in, insisting that he needed to sleep. He waved their concerns aside.

 

"If none of my injuries got infected when I was trekking through the goddamned countryside, they're not going to get infected now. Where's my wife? I need to see her." He paused for a moment, eyes steely. "Someone better have told her I'm still alive." None of them would meet his eye, and he muttered a stream of curses before storming out of the room, the flaring pain in his knee and his blistered feet now forgotten.

 

He made his way to the royal chambers, figuring it would be the most likely place to find her. His assumption was well founded - she was sitting on the end of their bed, staring down at her hands, which were knotted tightly in the black skirt of her mourning gown. Her eyes were dry, although they were red-rimmed and puffy. Geoff felt a new flare of hatred towards Ryan for putting Griffon, strong, proud Griffon, in a position where she'd cried so much over something that wasn't even true.

 

"Griffon," he murmured softly. Her head shot up. It took her a second to register the tender expression on Geoff's face, and how utterly ridiculous he looked with various sections of his grubby clothes missing where the healers had cut away the fabric, before she flung herself at him. Laughing and with fresh tears welling in her eyes, Griffon wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her head under his chin.

 

"They told me he killed you," she whispered. "That he had you strung up on his battlements and your eyes had been torn out- oh  _god_ , Geoff, how did you get away?" She pulled back, looking up at him, and then shook her head, a grin stretching to her tear-stained cheeks. "No, it doesn't matter. I'm just so glad you're not dead."

 

She shuddered against him, clinging to his collar, and he stroked her back soothingly. "I'm not that easy to kill, you know," he told her, keeping his voice light-hearted. "And you  _should_  know, I've pissed you off enough in the past. You're downright murderous when you're angry." She laughed and cupped his cheeks, bringing him in for a kiss. After a few lingering seconds, she pulled away, looking at him like she planned on never letting him out of her sight again. Her eyes suddenly became serious.

 

"Did you find Gavin? Where is he? Please tell me he's alright." Her face went from serious to fearful as silence fell between them. "Geoff?"

 

Geoff hesitated, his brief happiness draining away. He didn't know what to tell Griffon. The Gavin they had both known and loved, had raised as their own son, was not the same man that now willingly shared the Mad King's bed. Not only that, but Geoff had no idea of Ryan's promise to consider letting Gavin visit his native kingdom during peace treaty negotiations. He'd already assumed that he and his wife would never see Gavin again.

 

In the end, he could only tell her the truth. So, when she repeated her questions a little more frantically, he shook his head, his voice breaking.

 

"Gavin's gone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sequel has now been posted! The title is 'Coming to Terms', and you can find it by going to my profile or by clicking the link in the 'Series this work belongs to' section.


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